May 2015

camping, brooklyn style.



“Everyone is the poet of their memories. Usually it's better to get things over with so you have the memory. But like the best poems, they're also never really finished because they gain new meaning as time reveals them in different lights. Maybe every memory is inside you from the beginning; they erupt and branch and merge in fantastic patterns, but if you really tried you could trace any one of them back to the same original.”
-Richard Hell


A little runaway, to Camp Gateway...

2015-05-22 18.57.06


2015-05-22 18.59.46


2015-05-22 19.00.04


2015-05-22 19.16.20


2015-05-22 19.20.29


2015-05-22 19.20.42


2015-05-22 20.04.54


2015-05-22 20.08.41


2015-05-22 20.09.27


2015-05-22 20.09.42



© 2019 Ali Abate